


Arms Trade

by WhyAreAllThePenNamesTaken



Series: Fallen Angels [4]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllThePenNamesTaken/pseuds/WhyAreAllThePenNamesTaken
Summary: The team takes a shot at the Thornhill Organisation and meet a few faces from the past.





	1. The Plan

Deeks and Kensi sat side by side looking out over the Los Angeles basin as the sun set over the Pacific.

"Thornhill wants me to set up an arms deal."

"It’s what we've been waiting for."

"We're going to need a plan."

"I have one. We put GPS trackers in the weapons, motion powered so they last, then we put the place under surveillance."

"This feels oddly familiar."

"We are not the ATF."

"I just don't want to be the one putting more guns on the street. I can't." Deeks turned away to look at the calming waters of the Pacific.

Kensi interlaced her fingers with his, rubbing her thumb over the back of his palm. "We won't be." Deeks nodded.

"You need to tell them, they need to be ready."

"I will, once the deal is set up. Deeks wanted to fight, but he saw the slight steeling in her shoulders and thought better of it.

"We should get going." Deeks moved to get up. Kensi gripped his hand tighter. Deeks turned back to look at her. "In about ten minutes it’s going to be freezing."

"That's why I brought two blankets."

Deeks smiled and settled back down. "I love you."

"I know."

***

Thornhill, Partridge and Deeks were sitting in the offices of Private Investigations. Partridge sat behind his desk while Deeks and Thornhill sat in the two chairs in front. Thornhill rattled off a memorised shopping list. “Four shotguns. Three dozen pistols – .45s or 9mils, absolutely no .38s." 

"Really?" Deeks said.

"You shoot a guy with a .38 it won't always put him down the first time," said Partridge. "There was this MP that told me that, big guy, I'll never forget him."

"Ok."

Thornhill continued. "An equal number of Kevlar vests. A dozen submachine guns, preferably HKs. Most of the American brands look stupid. A M110 sniper rifle. And a dozen .22s.”

“.22s? That’s kind of a girl’s gun," said Deeks.

“There’s a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer, Max, and .22s are easier to silence.”

“Anything else?”

“Silencers for the .22s, Grenades – fragmentation, flash bang and chemical, a couple of M32 Multiple Grenade Launchers.”

“What on earth are you going to need a grenade launcher for?”

“There’s a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer. You have to look at the whole board.”

"You want 7s or 5s for the sub machine guns."

"Dealers choice."

"I'll start looking, but that kind of list might take a while to set up."

***

“What does he want?”

“Enough guns and grenades to take a city” Then he told her exactly what was on the list.

“Twenty million goes a long way. Can you get it?"

“Can I get more than a quarter million worth of hardware? The Crows are our best bet. They're a biker crew from up north that created a charter down here a few years back. They buy a lot of European stock and heavy hardware."

"You haven't been under as an arms dealer in years. How do you know all that?"

"I like to read. It’s amazing what you can find in intel reports."

***

Deeks walked into a bar. Jimmy was sitting at the far end of the bar and got up as soon as he saw Max walk in. Deeks followed him into the back. As Jimmy reached the back he broke into a run. Deeks followed and his longer legs allowed him to catch Jimmy before they were halfway down the alley.

Deeks grabbed him and threw him into the wall. It felt good. And Max had a reputation for hurting people that had to be maintained. At least that was what Deeks told himself.

Jimmy was an incredibly low-level gun dealer who brought mainly pistols from the Crows and then sold them on the street with very little regard to who brought them or how they were used. Which made it ok to hurt him, said one voice in his head. No it doesn't, it’s never ok, said another voice.

"What?" Jimmy said. Deeks took a step back.

"I know you hang with the Crows. I need you to put me in contact with them. I'm looking to buy."

"Maybe I could help you out?"

"What I'm looking to buy is so far above your level you couldn't see it if you used a telescope."

"Then what's in it for me?"

"Money, it was going to be twenty grand, but seeing you made me run, it's ten."

"Come on."

"You want to make it five." He pulled out one of the two bundles of cash from his jacket. "Yes or no?"

"All up front."

"Half now, half when we get to the meeting."

Jimmy paused for a moment before making his decision. "Fine."

Deeks broke the band and counted out $5,000. Then he handed Jimmy a card. "Call me when you have the meeting."

***

Deeks sat in the car, just watching. The Crows LA charter was prosperous. According to the last ATF intel report Deeks had read, they had nearly two dozen full members wearing their patch of the reaper holding a sickle and M16, along with just as many prospects and associates. There were charters in Nevada, Oregon, Illinois, and a charming town in the San Joaquin valley and 15 other cities around the globe, not to mention a dozen nomads ready to back them up if needed.

The meeting was with one of the patched members in a park. Deeks was early, but so were the bikers, four whom were dispersed around the park with all the approaches covered.

One of the bikers pulled out a cell phone and made a five second call. A few minutes later, three more bikers drove up and made their way over to a picnic table in the middle of the park. Deeks recognised the one in the centre, who took a seat while the other took up positions nearby. He was Duke, the Vice President of the Crows LA charter.

He held up the other half of the brick to Jimmy, who took it. He didn't move.

He turned to Jimmy. "Piss off."

"What? We're ten miles from my car."

Deeks turned to face the gun dealer. "Then you'd better start walking." Jimmy got out of the car and walked off.

Deeks got out of the car and walked over to where Duke was sitting.

Duke was "You're Duke?" He had a Men of Mayhem patch on his cut, usually reserved for those who had killed in the service of the club.

"You're Max?"

"Yeah."

"Jimmy said you wanted serious gear."

Deeks gave him the shopping list. Duke whistled.

"That'll be two hundred thousand. Half now and half on delivery."

"Twenty percent now. You know me, I don't know you"

"Forty percent, I don't know you."

"I know you've been asking around about me, and you wouldn't have taken this meeting if you'd heard bad things, so a third now."

"I'm surprised that you didn't push the price."

"I know what this gear is worth."

"Deal." The two men shook hands.

"Let me get my money from the car." Duke nodded.

***

Once Deeks got back to his apartment, he went into the bathroom, pulled a plastic wrapped phone out of the cistern and sent a text: We’re on.


	2. The Exchange

Kensi sat in her SRX outside the Mission and seriously contemplating calling in sick today.

The only good thing about today was that Hetty was in Washington for a budget meeting, a relatively new development as she used to attend via videolink. Apparently, Kensi wasn't the only person who was pissed at Hetty.

That didn't mean today was going to be easy. She headed through the oak doors and walked slowly towards the bull pen. Even from this distance she could hear them bantering away. She walked into the main room and the two men looked up as she entered the bullpen. Rather than heading for her desk, Kensi remained where she was.

"Kensi, what's going on? Callen asked. Kensi didn't respond.

"Kensi?" Sam said, leaning towards her. Callen moved his chair back, about to rise. Still Kensi didn't respond.

Finally she gathered her courage, walked over to her desk, dropped her bag and turned to the two men. "Come with me."

She led the two men out into the courtyard within the hacienda, coming to a stop next to the fountain in the centre.

"What's going on?" Callen asked.

Even now, it took Kensi a long moment to speak. "Deeks is infiltrating Thornhill's ranks. Thornhill brought the drugs we chased with the DEA and he probably ran the pump and dump and killed Peter Griffin and Jennifer Gates. Now he's getting Deeks to buy a shipment of arms and I need your help."

"Why didn't you tell us before," said Sam.

"We all work on things on our own," said Callen to his partner.

"No, Deeks was undercover, he needed back up," said Sam.

"This isn't undercover, this is infiltration and you know as well as I do that when you do that, you're on your own."

"We could've helped him. We could've worked together and we'd have more than we have."

"We have a lot. We know the names of front companies, locations, top lieutenants."

"And a murderer walks free."

"Even if we knew who killed Griffin and Gates, and we don't, that wouldn't be enough tie it to Thornhill. He'd walk and hire more killers.

"We could have found out more," said Sam.

"How?" Kensi leaned towards Sam. The former SEAL reciprocated.

Callen stepped between them. "We can't spend time feeling sorry about what might have been," said Callen. He turned to Kensi. "How does Deeks link Thornhill to the pump and dump?"

"One of Thornhill's lieutenants had a list of bank accounts, at least two of those matched accounts that the Sunshine money was sent to."

"Can Deeks get the list?"

"It was shredded."

"When's the arms deal?"

"Tomorrow or the next day. There will be separate cash and weapons exchanges. We follow the arms up the chain of command."

"We can't just let them walk."

"We were thinking GPS transmitters," said Kensi.

"Too obvious, not to mention you can't use them on the pistols," said Callen

"We could use Overwatch," said Sam. "Totally invisible, trackable for up to three weeks, which should be more than what we need."

Callen and Kensi nodded. "The Crows supply everyone, from terrorists, to the Aryans, to Mexican Cartels. They're on every watch list from here to Hong Kong. We can justify this to Granger."

"I agree, but we should have a plan first, and we need to tell Eric and Nell, they can help.

"Let's get to work," said Sam. He headed back into the mission.

Callen turned to her. Why didn't you tell us about Deeks?"

"Because you'd've told Hetty."

*

Deeks walked towards "What were you thinking?"

Deeks turned to look at Callen. "Oh, I'm just here to keep the peace."

"It wasn't necessary to bring you in."

"We shouldn't be keeping things from each other.

"We keep things from each other all the time. Sudan, Jada, your family." Sam opened his mouth. "Look I'm not saying we shouldn't have told you, but we were running it, and we chose not to because we thought it was best."

"You thought we were a security risk?"

"Yeah, we did. And I would point out that you never questioned it when it was Hetty was making the calls, no matter how badly it went."

Sam's face changed to a look of consideration. Conveniently, before the big man could formulate a response, Deeks' phone buzzed.

"One second." Deeks pulled his phone from his pocket. "The Crows have set a meeting for tomorrow at a warehouse in North LA."

"Then we've got a job to do." Sam paused. Deeks said nothing, "You're not going to apologise?"

"If I had to make the same choice again, I'd make the same one, and so would you."

Sam nodded, Deeks thought he understood, even if he didn't emotionally agree. The three men headed inside.

*

Granger approved their plan with surprisingly little convincing. A check through the Justice Department computers revealed that the ATF was still attempting their way through the outer bulwarks of the Crows.

*

Deeks leaned against the side of the van. He and two other members of Thornhill's crew were gathered in an alleyway, four blocks from the warehouse where the meet had beem scheduled.

"Repeat the instructions I gave you."

"I already did."

"Do it again."

"I go into meet the Crows at the money exchange while you check the guns. When you give me the go ahead, Bob brings in the money and you take the guns. Are you sure you don't want someone to help you out?"

Thornhill had asked the same question and Deeks gave the same answer both times. "The fewer people involved, the less chance there is that someone will say the wrong thing to the wrong person." Also, he needed the opening to spray the weapons with Overwatch, which Kensi had provided.

*

Kensi climbed up onto the roof of a building overlooking the warehouse. Kensi toggled her comms. "Position One, the Crows are on site."

"Copy that," said Deeks. "Proceeding."

Kensi was so focused on Deeks' van as it drove towards the warehouse, that she had no warning before she heard a click behind her. She whipped round to see a figure standing over her. "Don't move."

*

The moment Deeks walked into the warehouse, he scanned every face. It was a habit he had picked up after an unpleasant lesson in how incestuous the LA underworld could be. He saw no faces he recognised, but one of the men hung in the back, always keeping someone between Deeks and himself. Before Deeks could take a closer look, Duke walked over.

The biker stuck out his hand. "Afternoon."

"Hot enough for you," Deeks said as he returned the handshake.

"No power means no power bill, but it also means no AC."

"Then let's get this over with."

Duke nodded and led Deeks over to the hardware. Deeks looked them over. He was satisfied that they were the real deal. He doubted that the Crows wanted people who brought automatic weapons to come back for a refund.

He texted the moneyman, waited for a response, then pulled the SIM card out broke it into four, then smashed the body under his boot.

"Must cost you in phones."

"But it's saved me in years." The truth was that he'd given the phone number to Eric, and seeing as Eric did everything on computer, to Hetty as well, and he didn't want to give the tiny ninja any more information than he absolutely had too. Plus, it had impressed his co-worker, and Duke and his men in the bargain.

After a few minutes, Duke received his own text, and followed Deeks' example.

"You know, you're not what I expected.

"Oh,

"You're supposed to be well..."

"Crazy" Duke said nothing. "I only have the two modes, be thankful you don't get to meet the other guy."

Duke smiled and nodded, probably because the man's finely tuned bullshit detector had just pinged. He turned to his men and waved a finger in a circle.

Deeks closed up one of the crates. Then he and Duke brought it over to his van.

The other Crows soon had a rhythm going, shuttling boxes between the warehouse pile and the van.

Deeks finally got a good look at one of the guys carrying the guns. It was Bauer from ATF. The recognition was clear on his face. Deeks shot the man a pleading look. Bauer shook his head. Fragglerock.

Deeks walked over to help the ATF agent load the case into the truck. "How long do you think we have to do this?" he asked, referring to the ATF's pending arrival.

"About two minutes." Loading up would take twice that. And he couldn't very well just drive off without inviting some very awkward questions about why. Fragglerock. There was nothing to do now but play it out. He continued carrying crates back and forth between the two vehicles.

Duke's radio crackled. "Someone's-"

"Knuckle up," shouted Duke.

Ten seconds later the door burst of its hinges.

"Federal agents, don't move." Bauer immediately dropped to his knees and Deeks followed his example, along with Duke and several other members of the crew. One of the Crows did not comply. The ATF agents shot him without hesitation.

Within a minute the warehouse was secured. The breach team and the windbreakered agents half led half dragged Deeks and the Crows to the wagon waiting outside. The last thing Deeks saw before he was dragged out was a pair of clipboard carrying DEA agents cataloguing the cache of weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome.


	3. The New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The old plan made contact with the enemy. Time for a resurrection.

ATF had much smaller holding cells that LAPD. Instead of 30' x 30' group cells, ATF used single person cells, barely 40 feet square. Worse, today they were double booked. Even worse, his cellmate, Remy, who had been the money man, would not shut up. He needed time to think. By now Kensi would have gone to Granger, but the question of whether-

"Hottest actress in the hottest scene in movie history, go."

Deeks turned away from Remy to face the wall. He wanted to punch it more than anything. That wouldn't be helpful, and hitting things never seemed to satisfy his father for very long. The real question was who was calling the shots, if it was Bauer then there was a good chance that he could walk, but if it was some ladder climber-

"Best line in Breaking Bad."

Deeks took a very deep breath.

"Come on man, you've got to give me something."

Deeks really did not need to deal with this right now. He was trying to salvage this. If he couldn't well, he didn't really-

"Hey."

Deeks rolled over and sat up. He felt the fury rising inside of him and in all honesty pummelling Remy was probably better than facing-

The cell door buzzed. He turned to see two plain clothes agents. "You're up," said one. They led him down the hallway and into one of the interrogation rooms.

Standing next to the table was a male agent. Unlike the last two times the men had met. Agent Bauer was wearing suit and ATF lanyard, his hair combed back and his beard neatly trimmed, with a single folder, full but not overstuffed on the table. All designed to present authority and control to the subject.

"Are we?" He waved towards the cameras.

"We're being recorded."

"You want to tell me why you're under buying guns for a gang."

"The same reason you were under with bikers, to catch the bad guys."

"Do your bosses know about this?"

"Not the exact details."

"What they don't know..."

"Exactly."

"I screwed it up for you brother."

"It's okay, I'm sure I can spin this."

"So you don't want me to call this in."

"No, question me, then throw me back."

Bauer smiled. "I should have brought coffee." He settled into his chair. "So, how've you been?"

*

When the voice told Kensi not to move, she managed to turn over and draw a pistol. Being shot was far better than being taken. She had been a hairsbreadth from shooting out the man's kneecaps when she'd seen the letter ATF on his bulletproof vest. She had been held at the cordon and released once ATF has verified her identity. Now she followed Granger, Sam and Callen through the ATF bullpen. An agent was coming out of an interrogation room, coffee and files in hand. Callen led them towards the suited man.

“Agent Bauer,” said Callen as they got close.

"Listen-," Agent Bauer started.

"Is he in there?" snapped Kensi.

"He's in the holding cell, with the other suspects," said a voice to one side. The quartet turned to find an Indonesian man in pin stripes.

"Agents, meet Section Chief Batu. Chief this is Agents Hanna, Callen..." Bauer stopped.

"Agent Kensi Blye."

"Assistant Director Owen Granger."

"NCIS," finished Bauer.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming in here after what you pulled," said Batu.

"What we pulled?" Kensi said.

"You almost blew more than a year's work by my best man. And for what, some two bit outfit," Bauer was looking very intently at his file.

"And you've probably blown our only chance to get in on a major drug smuggling organisation," Kensi replied.

Batu was getting ready to speak again when Granger stepped in. "Enough. Clearly we're not going to get anywhere here. Let's take this upstairs."

"What about Deeks?" Sam said.

Granger turned to Bauer. "Can you fish him out again?"

"He wanted me to throw him back. He thinks he can salvage it."

"Then we follow his lead. Agent Blye, Agent Callen, come with me. Agent Hanna keep an eye on Deeks, be ready to pull him out if there's trouble." Granger turned to Batu. "Can you have some men standing by?"

Batu paused for a moment, then turned to two of his men. "Cy, Fitz, show Agent Hanna the way, back him up." The two men nodded and led Sam in what was presumably the direction of the holding cell. She felt a hand on her arm. She looked up to see Granger.

“Let’s go get him out of here.” She allowed him to lead her away.

*

Assistant US Attorney Roberts rose as both agencies entered the conference room. He made a few notes as both sides told their respective stories. Then he said the words Kensi had feared. "I agree with Section Chief Batu. Your operation can't proceed in its current form and even if it could, I am not prepared to give away the best shot we've had at the Crows in the last decade, not on a maybe."

"But I also agreed with Assistant Director Granger. There is little to be gained by blowing your CIs cover. I'll have to talk to my superiors, but I think that what we'll do is charge everybody, including your CI under his assumed name. Then towards the end of pre-trials, if your investigation doesn't bear fruit, we offer your CI and his associates good plea deals in which they admit to weapons trafficking. But I'll have to inform the judge."

"Agreed," said Granger.

"Fine." said Batu.

Granger stood and offered his hand. Batu took it briefly, shook Roberts' hand, nodded to the others, and left, Bauer in tow.

"He's a decent guy, but this case was supposed to be the big break that got that office out from under the Stone cloud and give him a plus for the next promotion round. Now he's got a complication, and he has to deal with the people who he sees as having put him in his unenviable position."

"He should be thankful for the win."

"He will be, in a few days. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have court to prepare for."

*

It wasn't the first time that Deeks had been in a courtroom. On dozens of occasions over the years, he had been called to testify hidden behind a screen, or sometimes just to sit in the gallery and observe. Nor was it the first time where he hadn't had much sleep, though this time it was from a need to stay vigilant, rather than pre-trial nerves. It was his first time in the dock. The lawyers stood and introduced themselves to Judge Abernathy, the bailiff read the charges, then things got interesting.

"Your Honour, the government requests remand. The defendants are charged with crimes carrying a mandatory minimum of five years per count, totalling more than a hundred years in prison."

"Your Honour, the government is misrepresenting the charges, two of my clients are on their first offence and the other is on his second and therefore all are only eligible for a maximum ten year term. I request that my clients be released on their own recognizance." The judge harrumphed.

"Where I come from Your Honour ten years is still a lot of time to spend in prison. In our opinion the flight risk is considerable and furthermore, the defendants are accused of purchasing deadly weapons." That last part would probably have been effective in front of any other California judge. Deeks knew that Judge Abernathy was extremely gun-shy, in both senses, for fear of being overturned on appeal.

"Your Honour, the government is once again misrepresenting the charges, my clients are not accused of purchasing these weapons for their own use, only for commerce." No reasonable US attorney would exclude the possibility of use. "Furthermore, all my clients have strong ties to the community, all three own homes, and additionally, Mr Gentry owns his own business, a car wash in East LA." Deeks was just as surprised as the US attorney at that one, but he quickly suppressed it.

"Your Honour, the defendants are accused of serious crimes and represent a flight risk." This man must be incompetent; no prosecutor would let a criminal claim business ownership without proof, and a source of funds hearing. He was throwing the hearing. Deeks silently thanked Kensi.

"A flight risk for which the government has yet to provide evidence and crimes of which my clients are innocent until proven guilty."

The judge raised his hand. "Bail is set at $200,000.00 cash or bond." He banged his gavel down. "Next case."

As the sheriffs led Deeks out, he saw the AUSA smiling.

*

When Deeks walked out of central detention this time, Kensi and Bates weren't waiting for him. Instead, there was a man Deeks recognised from Rick's, who led him to a blue sedan down the street. The back window came down, revealing Thornhill.

Deeks leaned over the window. "A house and a business. You didn't have to do all that for me."

"We set it up after the thing with the sailors. You're one of my guys. As long as you're with us, we'll be with you."

"You said that."

"I meant it."

"Thank you." Deeks said quietly. He could see why Thornhill's people were so loyal, he appeared, and most likely was, willing to risk it all for them. Putting together a home and a business for every member of the organisation couldn't have been easy, or without risks.

"What happened?"

“ATF had an agent inside the Crows.”

"Well, you put a human being in a plan and there will be a flaw. Don't worry too much about it. We have to be more careful about checking out the other guys better next time."

"Yes, sir." The man who had been waiting at the gate took a briefcase out of the trunk. Inside was $250,000.

"To complete your assignment." Deeks stood up. "And Mr Gentry."

"Yes."

"Fail again, and I will find someone more adequate for the task."

"I understand."

The car sped off.

Kensi was sitting in an SRX five rows from the gate. Deeks leaned in the driver side window. He placed his hand along the side of her jaw and pulled her lips to his. After a few minutes, they released each other and Deeks got into the back seat, lying across the seat so that he wouldn't be easily visible.

"His licence plate is AGRT6794." Kensi wrote the plate number on a note pad.

They drove in circles through the streets of Downtown Los Angeles for almost half an hour before stopping at an old-school diner. Kensi hopped out of the car

“Breakfast?” Deeks asked as he followed her.

“Something like that.” She smiled.

Bauer, Sam, and Callen were gathered around a table in the corner.

"So, now what?" Sam asked after the waitress had refilled everyone’s coffee.

"Well, I can probably scratch the most of the basics from my connections. But the more specialised items, like the grenade launchers and the rifles are going to be tricky. Everyone I know who has that sort of hardware is locked up." He turned to Agent Bauer. "What about you?"

"The Aryans are hoarding. They're worried about the Armenians trying to take their turf and also more generally about the obvious threats posed by non-WASPs to truth, justice and the American way." Bauer said. The last phrase dripped with contempt.

"If they're hoarding they're not going to be interested in selling to us," said Kensi.

"No, we're going to have to sell them something," said Deeks. "What are they looking for?"

"A rocket launcher." Agent Bauer said.

"A rocket launcher?" Kensi said.

"There's a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer," said Deeks.

"Where on earth are we going to get a rocket launcher?" Kensi said.

"I know a guy who might be able to help with that," said Callen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism always welcome.


	4. Scavenger Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes on a hunt through LA to get the guns they need to entrap Thornhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this universe diverges immediately before the season 6 finale. So, the journey to Russia was more of a rescue mission than a stop the terrorists plot like it was in OTL. I reference it here and I didn’t want to confuse people.

Callen and Sam followed a suited man, with tattoos just poking out of his shirtsleeves onto Arkady’s patio, “Arkady,” said Callen in greeting.

“Callen. How are you? Did you miss me?”

“I’m glad your goons have stopped trying to keep us out.”

“Is faster, what brings you to my home?”

“We need you to set up a meeting.”

“What is in it for me?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “What’s in it for you?”

“I am businessman, is principal.”

“Consider it repayment,” said Sam, his frustration starting to show.

“Repayment?”

“The time you sent a goon to my house,” said Callen.

“Or the time we rescued you from being drowned,” said Sam

“Or flew to Russia to save your daughter,” said Callen.

Arkady sighed. “What do you want?”

***

The three men crowded into one of Arkady’s trucks. Callen could feel the toughness of the leather seating behind him. “If we search this car, what are we going to find?”

“Nothing.”

“Arkady,” Callen’s voice lowered and he leaned forward.

“Nothing I cannot handle.”

Callen thought that their ripples of their venture to the motherland were washing up on this side of the Pacific. Arkady had stood tall for them when the MVD had shown up after they rescued Anna.

“Who’s giving you this trouble? Maybe we can help.” Sam looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Callen kept his hand low and made a later gesture.

“Old comrade from the motherland. It is not a problem.”

Callen shrugged. "While we're on the subject of the old country, what do you know about Tyodor Muscov?"

"He is big man in Russian mob. Everyone is Los Angeles answers to him," answered Arkady.

"Including you?" Sam said.

"I am not in the Bratva. I do not like tattoos."

"He have any enemies?"

"If anyone goes against him, he kills them, and their families, just to be sure."

"So that's a yes then."

"That is a yes."

Arkady pulled into an alley next to a scrap yard.

“We're not too close?” Sam asked.

“These guys are mobile, they think that is all the security you need.”

“No lookouts, no cameras.”

“They travel light and move quickly.”

Then I think we'll be fine.” Callen noted his friend's renewed focus on operational security. He was thankful for it, even agreed with it, but he couldn't help but be a little saddened by it.

The three men got out. Kensi and Deeks drove up a moment later.

“So, these guys are selling the rocket launcher,”

“Several. Apparently, they have a link to the factory.”

“Okay, we tell them the truth, I want to buy a rocket launcher, why is not their concern.”

Kensi stepped forward. "I'm coming in."

"Kensi-."

"My op, my lead." Deeks looked to Callen for support, who raised his hands, palms forward.

"You could try talking Detective to her," said Arkady.

It took Deeks a few seconds to put the pieces together "You saw that?

"Just stay away from severed pinkies."

"Let's go."

"Names?"

"Max Gentry," said Deeks.

Joanna Doyle," said Kensi.

"Who’s Joanna Doyle?" Deeks asked.

"Just an alias I threw together, it’s no big deal.” Deeks' smile was rueful. “Let’s go."

As Callen watched the Arkady lead the way, he had a feeling there was more to that story.

He felt Sam boring a hole in the back of his head.  “What?”

“You really want to help Arkady take care of the competition?”

“He's a good informant.”

“Good enough to risk jail for.”

“I'm talking about taking Russian mobsters off the streets.”

“Deeks would tell you that's how it starts.”

***

The three men were all of caucuses extraction to Deeks and all had the look of men who had taken too much crystal meth. Arkady sure knew how to pick them.

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

Deeks could see one of the men was carrying a nine mil, the barrel pointed directly at his penis. Amateur. But an amateur who could get his hands on a rocket launcher, a dangerous combination.

“Who're these two?”

“This is Max Gentry.” The man's eyes widened slightly. It was so nice to be remembered. Deeks put on a front of barely restrained violence because it was important to keep up appearances. The fear on the men's faces had nothing to do with it.

"Who's the hottie?" Now the appearance reflected the reality. Deeks stepped forward, but Kensi beat him and Arkady to the punch, figuratively speaking.

"The hottie's name is none of your concern."

"Where's the rocket launcher?" Arkady said, attempting to cool tensions.

The gun dealers pulled a case from amongst the scrap metal and placed it on a conveniently placed barrel.

“Show us the money.” Deeks half pulled the bundle of bills from his jacket. The tweaker armorer opened the case.

Kensi stepped forward and picked dup the rocket launcher. "An AT-4 CS anti-tank shoulder launched recoilless munitions systems with 84-mm unguided rounds and a range of 300 meters."

The gun dealers nodded. “You happy?”

Deeks looked at Kensi, who nodded as she placed the rocket launcher back in the case. He turned to the dealer. “We're happy.” He pulled the cash from his jacket and kept his other hand behind his back, close to his service weapons. He could feel as much as see Kensi, Arkady and the dealers tense up. If anybody was going to screw anybody, now was the time.

One dealer took the cash bundle as the other took his hand off the case. Kensi hefted the weapon and everybody slowly backed away from one another. Arkady led them out a door that conveniently meant no one had to turn their backs on anyone else.

It was only when they reached the alleyway that Deeks relaxed.

"You called Mitchell and Thompson?" Kensi asked.

"They're around the corner,” said Callen.

Arkady turned sharply to Callen. "You did not tell me they would be arrested."

Callen shrugged. "They won't be, until we find their link to the supplier. Don't worry, there'll be no connection to you."

“You did not tell me?”

“They're criminals,” said Sam. “Catching them is what we do.”

Arkady pressed his lips together. "This is me done?"

"It is."

"Then good day to you." Arkady got into his car and drove off.

Bauer turned to Sam and Callen. "Wasn't he your ride?"

"Yeah, he was," said Sam.

***

Rather than retrieving the Challenger from Arkady's house the group drove in the SRX to a garment factory in Vernon.

"You sure it's a good idea for him to come in here." said Bauer, looking at Sam.

"Aside from Kensi, there's no one I'd rather have watching my back," said Deeks.

"You know I'm sitting right here," said Callen.

"You're number three on my list."

"And Nell?" Kensi asked.

"I was trying to be nice and I'm just feeling so attacked right now."

"How about we get on with the job," said Sam. The team and Bauer got out of the car and headed toward the building.

At the door, they were met by two Aryans, one almost six feet tall, whose job was to deal with trouble and a smaller guy to take care of everything else. "Hands up." The smaller proceeded to give each of them a full pat down.

"Enjoying yourself there pal," said Callen as the man rose up.

"Oh, you're a comedian."

When the smaller man got to Kensi's mid-thigh and made a smirk as he proceeded higher, Deeks punched him in the face. The man tried to leap up and draw a pistol from behind his back, but Bauer kicked him in the face and then placed his boot on the man's chest. "Steady on there, Tinkerbell."

The downed man's compatriot looked at his friend, then at the five people standing in front of him. "Fair enough."

"I'll stay out here," said Bauer. "Make sure princess doesn't try anything else stupid."

Deeks led the way into the building. There were nine Aryans in the room.

"Max Gentry, your reputation precedes you."

"As a cultured man of taste?"

"As a man who sucks the good luck out of people."

"I can't help it if the LAPD is good at their job. Now show me the money."

"Perhaps we should just take the rocket launcher and keep the money."

Deeks smiled. Then he punched mighty whitey in the face. The man went down. One of the Aryans tackled him and the pair hit the floor. Deeks rolled in the racist's grip and brought his elbow into the man's side, causing him to release his hold. Deeks rolled and came to his feet. The Aryan tried to do the same, but Deeks didn't hesitate to kick him in the stomach. The white supremacist, whilst mentally flawed by definition, was not stupid enough to try to rise again.

Sam grabbed the wrist of a man as he raised up a pistol, twisted his arm out of the way, and broke the man's elbow with a palm strike before kicking the back of his knee to bring him down. He turned and brought the heel of his hand down on another man's face, shattering his nose. Another knee kick had the man on the floor as well.

Callen grabbed one Aryan and threw him against a massive sewing machine. Another Aryan grabbed him from behind. Callen pushed backwards until they slammed into the wall. This caused the second Aryan to loosen his grip and Callen reverse head-butted him. Callen broke the hold completely and brought the man's head down onto his knee. The first Aryan had recovered partially, so Callen put him down with a right cross.

Kensi punched one man in the throat before head-butting another. The ninth man raised his submachine gun. Kensi grabbed the .22 she had concealed in the front of her belt and shot him in the knee. The man fell, clutching his leg in pain.

"You are all under arrest," said Callen. The white supremacists just lay there groaning.

Sam looked down at the Aryans, a satisfied look on his face. "Well guys, thanks for being you."

The team walked outside to find Bauer standing over the larger Aryan. "All done?"

A quick search of the building led the team to a lift which took them down to the basement. There was almost everything Thornhill asked for, including the grenade launchers.

“This is what winning feels like, isn't it,” said Bauer.

***

It took about an hour to load the trucks and spray everything with Overwatch. Then another two hours to contact Partridge a drop the weapons at the safehouse. Thirty minutes after that Sam and Callen were walking by, pushing a pram loaded with a porcelain doll and a pair of M4s, and placed a camera on a fence opposite the door.

Now Deeks was back in the Old Haunt, sitting across a booth from Ernest Thornhill.

“I heard you did good today,” said Thornhill, after the waitress had deposited their beers.

“I do what I can for the good of the Company.

“Not that I'm opposed to racists getting the shit kicked out of them, but what’s this I hear about the Aryans getting taken for 100 grand worth of firearms.”

“Like you said, you're not opposed to racists having the shit kicked out of them. And I have the weapons you wanted.”

“We don’t need them coming back on us.”

“They won't today, probably not tomorrow or the day after.” Objectively true, and it helped if Thornhill thought Max short-sighted.

“But they will one day. Look at the whole board, Max.”

“In the meantime, you have what you wanted.”

Thornhill snorted. “Well, one step at a time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team work makes the dream work.
> 
> Regarding Joanna Doyle, there really is more to that story, it’s called Dead But Not Forgotten by fringedweller a.k.a tobinfic over on ffnet  
> I realised writing this that Gentry is such a great name for mid-level criminal. Someone on the writing staff is clever.  
> *  
> Comments and constructive criticism are welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome!


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